The nine times he finds her
by angellus08
Summary: 'And one time he doesn't. He thinks she needs him, she shows her she doesn't. Her only regret being that she never said yes. To him. She wants to say yes, she just wants to say yes. But Fate is a cruel bitch.' Just a little one-shot, co-written by me and luludancing.


_A/N – Me and Lulu (__**Luludancing**__) co-wrote this little one-shot together, that too we wrote it live on Skype lol. I hope you like it, and please please do let us know if you like it. REVIEW tc..._

* * *

He follows her.

Like a lost puppy.

The most dangerous lost puppy she's ever known.

And in the most random of times, when he steps next to her she wonders how he knows.

Always knows where she is.

His answer is always simple. He always knows.

Knows everything about her. And more importantly when she needs him.

Or so he thinks.

The first time he finds her, she has a flat tire in the middle of a deserted road.

Her dress clings to her body as the rain mocks her.

The more she curses, she harder it falls. The more she attempts to straighten her hair, the more they tangle.

The more she denies his smell, the more it feels familiar to her.

"Need some help, love"?

She scoffs and mutters under her breath, raising her head to the high heavens.

Turning, and miraculously controlling her appreciation of his soaked body she snips back "No I don't"

"Your flat tire would disagree with you" He jokes.

Her back may be to his goading face but she can visualize the smirk that adorns his lips.

"I don't need your help Klaus" she digresses, taking a step away from her car and watches the road, willing some car to pass by.

"So you can change a tire?" he inquires, almost curiously.

Swirling around to give him her patented smile she boasts "No, and I don't need to"

All it takes is fifteen minutes, one blue Toyota, a creepy old man, her long legs on display, her winning smile and she's looking at Klaus in the rearview mirror.

* * *

The second time he thinks she needs him; she's walking down the front steps, a whole stacks of boxes obscuring her view.

She can handle this. She can handle anything. Who cares that the boys of the football team declined helping her.

She's a vampire, carrying a few heavy boxes is nothing for her.

Until her heel gets caught in the crack in the stairs.

The crash the boxes make is drowned out by her shriek of annoyance.

She'd saved up two months worth of allowance for these pair of heels, and there it lay - heel in the crack, the rest of the shoe on her foot.

Thank God the boxes aren't filled with anything fragile.

"Need some help, love?"

Oh no. Not again. How does he even do this?

Why is he even here?

Without a word, she sweeps past him, his woodsy scent swirling around her.

Stupid vampire enhanced senses. She does not think he smelled nice.

Neither does she think that real men should smell like that. Maybe she should ask him for his brand of perfume?

Picking up the two boxes, she moves away from him towards the back lawn, where the party is too be held.

"It's childish to ignore me, you know?"

Is it childish to stomp her foot & throw the boxes at him & walk away?

"Really love, it would be more beneficial for you to take my help. I am stronger."

But no. No way would she be in debt to him.

All it takes is two hours filled with woodsy scent, lingering stares (maybe she shouldn't have worn these shorts), sneaky glances at a certain tight jean clad butt & it's all over.

Boxes empty, tables are set up, the décor is perfect.

She tells herself, sweating is sexy.

Smirking at him, she walks away into the house, knowing that his eyes are still on her legs.

He thinks she needs him. She shows him that she doesn't.

* * *

The third time he thinks she needs him, she's robbing a liquor store. She wants to rob a liquor store, because she is a vampire and apart from mismatching her attire one day she's never done anything crazy, and she wants to do something crazy. She is a vampire; if she gets caught she can just compel it away. No harm No foul.

She hides in the parking lot of the store, analyzing the entrance and the shopkeeper inside. Again she is a vampire and he is human and old. She can take him in 10 seconds, grab her bottles of liquor and run. Or hell even walk.

She has this she thinks.

So she struts her stuff to the door and swings it open. He smiles at her, the man actually smile at her. It's her blonde hair and blue eyes; it makes people think she's sweet and safe. And she doesn't want to be safe anymore. She grabs him by the collar and compels him to pay no attention to her. Then she takes her time rounding the isles twice, choosing her poison for the night.

"Need some help love?"

Her eyes close in disbelief as the words drift through her ears. Klaus, again. When will he take the hint?

"Go away Klaus" she mutters, grabbing a bottle of blue vodka and sticking it in her jacket pocket - gangsta style.

"Robbing stores." He comments, grazing his fingers over some peanut packets and smirking at her "Different, interesting, I like it"

"Do not care" she sings, grabbing two large tequila bottles and putting them in her backpack, she came prepared. "And definitely do not need your help" she adds, once again flashing him her smile and walks towards the exit, before his exaggerated cough halts her.

"I didn't forget Klaus" She says with a roll of her eyes.

Walking back to the compelled shopkeeper who stares at her blankly, she reaches over and rips out the recording tape. Whether it works or not, no one will know she was here. "See, I don't need your help" she presses and skips out the door, quite happy with her actions.

He thinks she needs him. She shows him she doesn't.

* * *

American History. Boy did she hate it.

Who cared about the past? As if it's going to come alive & be relevant somehow.

She sighs. Why does one need to know why the war started, shouldn't they just be happy that it's over?

Half an hour later, she scrunches up her millionth paper & tosses it away.

Getting a decent grade on the paper remains a distant memory.

That's when she smells it.

She closes her eyes & hopes against hope that she is wrong.

"Need some help, love?"

She glances at him, leaning against her table, looking _not_ so jaw dropping gorgeous.

"Go away."

"Love, by the amount of trees I see you are guilty of killing, you need my help."

She scoffs.

Flips her hair.

Throws him a dismissing look

And turns away.

Hearing his receding steps, she knows he has gone to set up shop at the bar.

She tells herself that she doesn't rub the pencil sensuously against her lips for him.

Or that sucking the tip of it, is a habit of hers.

Or bending down a bit to reveal her cleavage is not because she feels a set of eyes on her.

Or the soft sighs she releases is because the homework is hard.

None of it is for him.

Nope that's what she usually does.

20 minutes of her 'normal' behavior later, she is satisfied with her work.

Walking out of Mystic Grill, she smirks to herself, not because she saw him shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

Or adjusting his pants.

It's really because she finished the paper.

* * *

She hates weddings.

But no really she loves weddings, she just hates being at any wedding that isn't hers. Hates it even more when the possibly of her own wedding is as distant as Pluto. She hates weddings because everyone is smiling and happy and idiotic and she has the urge to rip some throats out. At least she looks good, even better than the bride she tells herself. The bride whom she barely even knows, but agrees to attend her wedding because she is Caroline, and it's hard for her to say no.

And then the one thing she's always said no to turns up.

She's attempting to strap her dress back in place.

Stupid, expensive, complicated thing. It's more of a mechanical equipment rather than a dress.

"Need some help, love?"

She cringes and whirls around, but he's already gotten a good look at her bare back, unfortunately exposed by the dress straps betraying her in the middle of the reception. She straightens her back and clears her throat

But really it's her mind she's clearing; he's in a tux again.

That heartless bastard.

She gulps and clears her throat yet again as an image creeps up in her mind. His soft, brutal hands running along her naked back, carefully strapping her suffocating device back in place. She can almost feel his hot breath in her ears as he would stand behind her, her hips flat against his and his lips oh so close to her neck.

With a comical shake of her head she rids herself of the image causing her to instantly heat up and narrows her eyes at him. "Nice of you to offer, but I can manage"

"You always do" he retorts back, stepping closer to her and it becomes that much harder for her to control her lingering (_betraying_) eyes.

Does he have to be in a suit?

It feels like revenge for some time she can't quite remember, but he sure does have a sneaky smile on his face as if he knows what he's doing to her. And somehow she thinks he knows exactly what.

But she won't let some dimpled, accent win her over because she is Caroline Forbes.

And Caroline Forbes needs no help, especially not from one Klaus Mikaelson.

He thinks she needs him. She shows him that she doesn't.

* * *

You know what she hates the most

People thinking she is the weak one

Really? They should realize by now that looks can be deceiving

She rolls her eyes as she whirls on the balls of her feet, dodging the cocky werewolf who thought he could intimidate her.

_It's not even the full moon pal & you really think you can take me on?_

There is some blood on the floor

Thankfully none on her new Zara dress.

Twisting her body, she grabs his outstretched fist & brings her elbow down on his arm.

Crack goes the bone.

Ouch, this boy's got a set of lungs on him.

He should have known better.

She feels a presence behind her & turns around.

Just to scoff & roll her eyes when she sees who was standing there.

"Need some help love?"

"The only help I need is how to get rid of you."

Klaus smirks at her, "That's going to be tough."

He watches as the werewolf rushes at her but she ducks him, grabbing him by the neck & flinging him to the wall.

God she is beautiful.

It's like a choreographed piece & she is the star.

His very own Black Swan.

Those long, creamy legs clad in blood red heels.

The stretch of her dress on her lithe, nimble, sensual body.

No one has made fighting look so good.

5 minutes of blatant ogling & adjusting his pants later, he stares at the curve of her butt as she picks the remaining pulp of the wolf up & threatens him.

"Come near me again, honey & I will neuter you so that there won't be any more future puppies."

He loves the low growl in her voice.

He will bet his life that she is that fierce & hot in bed.

Now to get her under him, naked, between his silken sheets is the problem he faces.

She brushes past him, barely sparing him a glance.

He stalks her all the way home.

He thinks she needs him. But she shows that she doesn't.

* * *

The next time he thinks she needs him, she's tripping over her own feet on the sidewalk and engaged in a heated conversation with the ground beneath her.

"Would you stop being so cobbled? You're going to break my heel" She hisses at the grey, cold stone floor and crinkles her nose at it accusingly.

"Who do you think you are?" She mocks, raising the tequila bottle in her hand up in the air "Rome?"

"No you are not, you are plain old Mystic Falls with it plain old boring sidewalks. You are not Rome..." she tells the ground authoritatively and wags a finger at it as she continues walking, "Nor Paris... nor Tokyo"

"You're just Mystic Falls" she adds sadly and stops abruptly and pouts whether at the ground of her own state she doesn't know, or will she remember, not with the amount of bottles she's consumed.

So she keeps walking intent on finding non-cobbled ground soon enough so she doesn't break her precious heels

But seriously, how is there a cobbled street in Mystic Falls?

While she's debating its peculiar existence she walks straight into a lamppost and falls flat on her ass.

With a groan she rubs her forehead when a face peeks into her line of sight.

"Need some help, love?"

"No" she says automatically, wondering the number of times she's said that to him.

And wondering the number of times she's really meant it.

"I'm fine"

"You're drunk" he points out with an almost disappointed tone.

"Oh well aren't you a genius" she spits sarcastically and pulls herself to her feet, swaying for a full minute as he appraises her with squinted eyes.

"That I am but do let me walk you home" He offers politely and innocently. But she catches the way his eyes trail over her barely clad body as she utters the words.

"So you can take advantage of me?" she asks, stooping in her posture because for some reason her spine can't handle her standing straight.

Or maybe it's the tequila.

Or maybe she just wants to bend down to take a good whiff of him,

Cheesus, he smells good. Like really good.

"I'm not that desperate yet, love" He says weirdly as she steps forward to literally sniff his jacket "But I would much prefer taking advantage of you when I know you'll stay awake the entire time" he adds with a deadly smirk when she moves up to his neck and sniffs again.

"Why do you smell like that?" she spurts and his brows scrunch together adorably.

Seriously this tequila is making her think shit. Klaus does not smell good, nor is he adorable.

"Like what?" he asks in mock-innocence and steps forward purposely. Oh no she takes that back, he does smell good.

"So... manly" she answers honestly and leaves out a content little sigh when he moves even closer.

"I smell much better in the morning" his deep husky voice makes her shiver and electricity runs through her body making her core ache involuntarily.

"Pfft" she dismisses with a wave of a hand and backs off, putting considerable distance between them.

"I'm not that easy" she declares and starts walking - _wobbling_- away, making sure to sway her hips for added effect of the Hybrid watching her.

He thinks she needs him, she shows him she doesn't.

* * *

The only true therapy to stress in Caroline's opinion is of the retail kind.

And what better way to do it than to go lingerie shopping.

She loves lace, they make her feel feminine & sexy.

But she would love to try on the daring dominatrix ones too.

She is in the dressing room trying on a white lace pair, when she hears a discreet cough from outside the curtain.

"Miss?" the dressing room attendant says.

Peeking out of the curtain, she looks inquiringly at the attendant who was holding a dark red silk creation in her hand, attached to what looked like garter belts.

"Yes?"

"I brought you this to try on."

"I didn't ask for them," Caroline replies puzzled. What is happening?

"It's from him."

She looks behind the attendant, to the smirking, curly haired man lounging lazily on the couch set in the middle of the dressing rooms area. The red of the couch contrasted sharply against his dark attire.

"Need some help love?"

He drawls before taking a sip from his champagne flute, looking like he had every right in the world to be sitting there in the middle of a lingerie shop.

Caroline frowns at him, annoyed at his audacity. She tries to ignore how virile he looks or the way his shirt clings to him, or how red his lips look.

"What are you doing here?" She clutches the curtains around her, feeling her body flush as his eyes look at her intensely.

"I was in the neighborhood & saw you come in here. Thought you might need some help." He smiles wolfishly at her & sends her a wink. "After all, who better judge this than the person you are wearing it for?"

Caroline scoffs. The attendant long gone, leaving them alone in the dressing room area.

Flinging the curtain aside, she stands in the doorway, her legs astride & her hands braced on the door frame.

She knows she looks sexy.

She feels the power in her.

The bobbing of his Adam's apple & the almost inaudible gulp coming from him helps.

Not to mention the dilating of his pupils & the sudden intake of his breath as his eyes scan her body

If there is anything Caroline knows to do is how to get the upper hand.

He may be a thousand year old hybrid but he was a man after all.

She was an expert in men.

Klaus didn't expect her to do that.

In fact she always surprises him with the unexpected.

His eyes rove her body, taking in the golden curls around her bare shoulder to her voluptuous breasts, the hint of her rosy nipples peaking from behind the lace, to her small waist to the low cut lace panties.

She looked like a princess. An Amazon princess.

Tall, gorgeous & very dangerous.

And all he wanted to do at that moment was ravage her!

Rip those flimsy cloths off her body & take her. Hear her scream as he pounded into her. Feel her clawing his back. Wrap her legs tightly around his hips. Shower her with kisses. Hold those golden breasts in his hand. Feel her blood pour into his mouth as he bit her creamy neck. Feel the pleasure of her biting his neck. Feel the slick blood between their naked bodies.

Boy, did he want to have his way with her.

He didn't give a damn of who was around.

He stood up and flashed to stand in front of her.

"About to accept my help love?" The words rolled off his tongue.

Caroline smirked at him, "No." And pulls the curtain across the doorway, blocking her from his view.

But not before he noticed the reflection of her back. The lace panties were in fact a thong.

He growls. She knows the effect she had on him

And she purposely did it.

10 minutes later, he watches from across the plaza, as she strolls out of the shop, carrying a bag full of lingerie.

That knowledge does not help him with his problem at all.

His hand will be getting some action today.

He thinks she needs him. She shows him that she doesn't.

* * *

It's clear to Caroline Forbes that Shonda Rhimes is a liar as soon as she meanders her way through the hospital.

The doctors are not hot, sexy, dreamy or any other thing she had been lead to believe.

The nurses were not petite and snippy; they were just plain old cruel.

And it didn't smell of anything like she expected, not even blood. And she expected blood.

It smelled of death.

Death was all around her, and despite her current similar status it creeped her out.

At least she wasn't all wrinkly and pale like them.

A compelled nurse jerked her head over to a large door at the end of a dimly lit corridor.

Scoffing at the rude little bitch, Caroline cautiously walked towards it. This was her first time stealing blood bags; she usually just tapped into Damon's stash. But she had recently been bitten with the whole 'I'm an independent woman' bug, and deemed it necessary that she learn how to do this.

Denying Stefan's help - coz really him going all Rippah on her would be too much of a nuisance - she suited up in all blacks and headed to the nearest hospital.

Reaching the double doors she peeked in; just one bald middle aged man scribbling something on a notepad stood between her and blood bags galore. Ensuring that no one was watching her she pushed the door open, and before the bald man could have a chance to speak she had already compelled him to stand guard outside the door.

She promised herself to take only a weeks supply, and she adhered to it as she searched for her last bag of B+.

Only AB+'s within reach she pouted, AB+ tasted horrible, left a bitter taste on her tongue. Nonetheless blood was blood as she picked up a bag and placed it in her bag.

"Need some help, love?"

She groaned loudly as her shoulders slumped.

How did he do this?

She turns slowly and with a inquisitive look on her face asks "Are you following me?"

"Yes" he says simply "How else do you think I always know where you are?"

Stupidly she shrugs and rolls her eyes "Well, you're wasting your time Klaus."

"Not how it looks to me" he says, moving his hand in front of his torso to reveal a blood bag.

She narrows her eyes to examine it closely without going any closer to him.

Bad things happen when she gets near him.

B+.

Ignoring him as he shakes the bag she demands "Then how does it look to you?"

He stills, not expecting such a question. Usually it's more scoffing, some witty comment and then strutting away while giving him the full effect of her rounded hips.

He assumes this to be progress.

He assumes wrong.

"Like your resolve is crumbling" He sneers wickedly, flashing his cocky smirk "And I'm a very patient man"

"Yes yes I know, a year... a century" she mumbles and crosses her hands over her chest "But you don't get it Klaus"

"Get what?" he asks curiously. Her features change drastically as she goes from smug and mocking to sad and sympathetic.

It baffles him to no end, until she speaks again.

"Because I don't need you" She says with such confidence that it tugs at his cold heart "I will never need you" she adds in an almost sorry tone as she walks away.

It doesn't strike him that this time she walks, simple walks and does nothing to punish him further.

He thinks she needs him, she shows him she doesn't

* * *

Memories course through her, filling her head with bright images long past.

She was barely 4 years old, bright & friendly even then. "Hi my name is Caroline!" She smiled at the doe eyed girl next to her.

Smiling shyly in return the girl ducked her head before replying, "Hi my name is Elena."

"Elena, Matt's got a crush on you!" Caroline jumped on her friend's bed, teasing her about the cute quarterback.

"Caroline you are drunk!" Elena giggled tipsily while they swayed to the music at Tyler's party.

"You are always everyone's first choice Elena!" Caroline stomped off, leaving her friend looking hurt.

"Why did you do this to me?" She screamed at a startled Elena.

"Please Caroline you have to do this for me!" Elena pleaded from her as she asked her to distract Stefan.

"How do you get over this?" Caroline cried over her father. "You don't." Elena leaned in & hugged her.

"Elena relax it's going to be alright. Just hold my hand. I am here for you" Caroline held onto Elena, helping her control her vampire side.

"Caroline I can't stop drinking! I thought I would have control but I don't! Help me!" Elena begged, her bloodied hands outstretched.

"Kill me. You have to kill me. You are the only one who can do this. I-I can't ask them." Elena said firmly. Her face filled with determination. "You are the only one I trust."

"No I can't!" Caroline said brokenly.

"Caroline. I love you. I want you to do this quickly. Otherwise I will continue killing innocents & I won't be able to handle it. The guilt alone will kill me. And I will find a hunter to kill me." Elena cradled Caroline's tear stricken face in her hand. "Please. For our friendship."

Caroline never forgot that. Even as she stands there in front of a bonfire in the middle of the woods. Her hands are held together by vervain coated chains hanging from a branch.

She deserved this.

She looks up at the crazed look Damon sports as he gets closer to her.

"Barbie, you know you have to die right?"

Spittle flies out of his mouth as he says that, getting closer to her.

She nods.

Her only regret being that she never said yes. To him.

* * *

The first time she _knows_ he needs him; she's chained to a tree. Her eyes wide with guilt and pain as she doesn't even attempt to fight. She deserves this, she deserves all this and worse.

She is a horrible person, just despicable. She broke Matt's heart, she broke Tyler's heart, she broke her mother's heart, she broke Klaus's heart, she killed her best friend.

She never said yes.

"Why did you do this?" Damon begs, and she can tell he'll join her soon. He just needs to get revenge out of the way before he joins his beloved Elena.

She doesn't say a word, she did it because she admires Elena. She did. Elena asked what she wasn't brave enough to do. She hated her eternity, she hated the blood lust, she hated being still - but she wasn't strong like Elena to end it. So she would be brave enough to help her friend.

She could live with knowing that she gave her cursed friend some peace.

But she didn't expect Damon to hunt her down with such vengeance, but he does. And how she's inches within losing her undead life and all she can think of is four little words.

"Need some help, love?"

She aches all over; her ears ache for the sound of his chuckling, her eyes for his blinding dimples, her nostrils for his earthy smell and her heart for the promises he holds.

But he never comes. She never sees that face, she never hears those words.

The words to which she wished she had simply said 'Yes'

A whimper escapes her throat as Damon positions the stake on her heart - somehow she always knew he would be the one to end her. It was destiny righting itself.

He almost looks sorry, sorry that she has to die but determined. Because for him it will always be Elena, no one else matters.

"Say you're sorry?" He commands, piercing her skin lightly and she inhales sharply.

"I'm sorry you lost her," she says truthfully, she is sorry. Very sorry that Damon doesn't know love in his damned life, but not sorry that she liberated Elena from this damnation.

Damon laughs and pulls the stake back, ready to kill her, end her, and with it his last remaining reason to live.

Her eyes close as dread fills her; this is why she wasn't brave enough. She doesn't want to die. She wants to go to Rome, Paris, Tokyo, hear great music, experience art and gaze upon genuine beauty.

She wants to say yes, she just wants to say yes. But fate is a cruel bitch, and just as the stake penetrates her heart, she sees it, she smells it - him.

He's here, he's finally here.

The last thing she hears is the roar of his voice, calling out her name.

The first time she _knows_ she needs him, he's too late.

* * *

_A/N - What did you guys think? Do let us know, and go check out Lulu's other stories they are amazing!_


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